“Master Ivo says it is not the women of Saylok who are the problem. It is the men,” Ghisla murmured. To say such a thing in front of the king or the chieftains—in front of any of Saylok’s men—would not be wise. “King Banruud and the chieftains keep negotiating with, and raiding, other lands for their women, but that has not lifted the scourge.”
The carriage door opened abruptly and a member of the king’s guard poked his head through the opening.
He extended a hand to help Alba disembark. She did so, and then the guard turned to Ghisla. Ghisla followed the princess, trying to quell the nervous jangling in her veins. She would be glad when the visit was through.
Hod heard the beat of her heart before the carriage even came to a stop and almost fell to his knees. He did not stand with the Northmen who had assembled to observe the arrival of the king but hugged the edge of the Bernian part of the crowd, wearing a drab cloak with his head covered and his eyes closed.
Arwin had taught him to close his eyes when he trod among other men. “They will remember your eyes, and you don’t want them to remember. You don’t want them to notice you at all. That is where true freedom lies. When you’re invisible, you come and go as you please.”
Arwin had not been right about everything, but he was right about that. Hod was overlooked and ignored in almost every situation, and he played the part of the harmless blind man quite well. It also helped that he wore no ornamentation—no bones or leather or rings in his ears like the other Northmen—and he leaned upon his staff like his back was bent and his body weak. Of course, he wasn’t a Northman at all, though he’d won acceptance over the years.
Banners flapped in the wind, the carriage wheels squeaked, and the horses shifted and shimmied, chuffing at their bits, their breath harsh and their big hearts thundering. Hod had expected the arrival of the king—the villagers and the Northmen had talked of nothing else for days—but he had not expected Ghisla.
“Tell me what you see,” he begged the old woman beside him. He kept his eyes shuttered so she wouldn’t be frightened, but he felt her suspicious gaze and smelled the ale on her breath. He also heard the exact moment she took pity on him. Her tension eased and her attention shifted, and she began to speak.
“Oh, it’s grand, it is. Flags of every clan, but the red flag of Berne first. King Banruud is of Berne, he is. He’s a big man and fine looking . . . like most of us Bernians. You have a look of a Bernian. Who was your mother?” she asked, getting too close and peering into his face, her nose almost touching his.
“I am a Bernian. Full-blooded. My mother was Bronwyn. She was a harlot, but she has assured me my father was of good Bernian stock.”
“Oh. Well then,” the woman said, and immediately shifted away, just as he’d intended.
“Tell me more,” he pled.
“The king is riding a black horse. No carriage for him. The princess has just disembarked. Oh, she’s a beautiful girl. She’s grown! A lady now, tall and slim. Her robes are black, but she is dressed in white. Her hair is white too . . . such an odd color. Like silver.”
“Moonlight,” he offered.
“Yes! Like moonlight,” she said, and clucked her tongue in approval.
“Is there . . . another woman?” he asked, striving to keep his voice even. “Perhaps . . . the queen?” He steeled himself.
Arwin had predicted Ghisla would be queen, and she was traveling with the king and the princess. There were no other daughters present. It was a logical conclusion to draw.
“The old queen? Queen Esa? No. No. She does not travel when the king visits the clans.”
“No, not the old queen,” he said. “Not Esa. Another woman.”
“I cannot see . . . Oh, there. She’s just stepped out of the carriage. Yes. The king has brought a daughter of the temple.”
“Describe her,” he insisted, though he needed no confirmation that it was Ghisla. “Please.”
“It is Liis of Leok. She does not smile or wave.” The woman sniffed. “Cold as ice, she is. I’ve seen her once before at the Tournament of the King, and she was just the same.”
“Cold as ice?” Hod asked. His chest was ice. Ice and fire, and he